Chapter 147: Eat Well
Albus Dumbledore had left Hogwarts.
This news was like a sudden blizzard, freezing the entire castle overnight.
The next morning, an unprecedentedly oppressive atmosphere filled the Great Hall.
At the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, the air was entirely lifeless. Students stared blankly down at the food congealing on their plates, no one possessing the slightest appetite to speak. Even the usually boisterous Weasley twins had lost their interest in cracking jokes, sitting in sullen silence. Fear settled over everyone's hearts like a thick, suffocating layer of dust.
Except for Slytherin and Ravenclaw.
At the Ravenclaw table, the atmosphere bordered on the eerie. Because their prefect, Penelope Clearwater, had fallen victim to the attacks, these students who prized wisdom did not run around like headless chickens. Instead, they gathered in tight clusters, engaging in hushed, intense debates. They analyzed the Board of Governors' motives, calculated the statistical probability of the next victim's appearance, and some even used Arithmancy to deduce the culprit's potential patrol routes. Even as fear spread through their ranks, they attempted to dissect it with cold logic—though the dark circles under their eyes proved it did not make them feel any more relaxed.
Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, a deep quiet reigned. Yet, that silence did not stem from terror or indifference. It was a heavy, calculated stability built upon a brand-new order.
Tamara Riddle sat at the very head of the long table—the seat traditionally reserved for the highest-ranking prefect.
Now, however, not a single soul felt there was anything out of place with her occupying that throne. Even the sixth-year prefect, Gemma Farley, cast a look of deep awe her way when passing by, carefully keeping her distance.
Tamara elegantly sliced a minuscule piece of bacon on her silver plate, her mood more pleasant than it had been in decades.
Although the rain continued to lash against the enchanted windows in a relentless downpour, in her eyes, the air circulating through the Great Hall today was so fresh it was practically intoxicating. Without that meddlesome old bee constantly scrutinizing her through his half-moon spectacles, this castle had finally revealed its true, glorious form. Survival of the fittest. A world where absolute power reigned supreme.
"The school feels a bit... empty now, doesn't it?"
Draco Malfoy, seated immediately to her right, lowered his voice. His tone carried a distinct hint of irrepressible smugness, his pale, pointed face practically glowing with aristocratic satisfaction.
"I mean, the air has improved immensely. Without that old madman constantly playing favorites with Gryffindor, I feel like we can finally breathe properly."
Tamara did not speak. She merely curled the corners of her mouth upward by a fraction of an inch, revealing a reserved, freezing smile.
That served as her entire response.
She did not need to speak loudly, nor did she need to deliver any grand, sweeping speeches to the masses. In this sudden power vacuum, she only needed to sit here, projecting an air of total nonchalance mixed with absolute, suffocating control. That alone was more than enough to make these power-worshiping little snakes bow their heads in complete submission.
This was exactly what she desired.
Absolute order. Absolute obedience.
Even Severus Snape, hidden in the shadows of the staff table, had been looking at her with increasingly complex, heavy eyes over the past two days. Tamara conceitedly interpreted that brooding stare as the loyal servant's deep recognition and awe of his master's returning strength.
Everything was progressing in the best possible direction.
If only one did not consider that damned appetite issue.
Tamara looked down at the tiny sliver of bacon on her plate. She had taken exactly one bite. Bored, she set her silver knife and fork down with a soft clink.
This mortal body's digestive system was simply too weak, too fragile. Or rather, as the former Dark Lord, she instinctively felt repulsed by such base, low-level biological behaviors as consuming nutrients to maintain a physical form. Eating felt beneath her.
She picked up a linen napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth, preparing to rise from the table and retreat to the Slytherin common room to continue her research into the Dark Arts.
However.
At the exact moment she pushed her chair back and stood up.
The ambient chatter of the entire Great Hall suddenly died. A dead quiet stretched for a fraction of a second, immediately followed by a faint, rippling stir of disbelief.
A light, forceful, and completely boundary-ignoring set of footsteps marched straight toward the Slytherin table.
Tamara frowned, her crimson eyes narrowing as she instinctively looked up.
She saw a red-haired figure striding over, completely braving the astonished, wide-eyed gazes of the entire school's staff and student body.
Ginny Weasley.
The girl wore ill-fitting, faded old robes. She clutched a large package tightly wrapped in greaseproof paper against her chest, and she wore that exact same beaming smile that never failed to make Tamara's stomach physically ache with revulsion.
"What in Merlin's name is she doing here?" Draco scowled, his nose wrinkling in utter disgust. "Has the Weasley family finally gone completely mad? This is Slytherin territory."
Goyle and Crabbe had already shoved their chairs back, standing up like two massive brick walls to block this oblivious Gryffindor intruder.
Ginny did not even spare a single glance for the two hulking boys.
She simply pushed past their thick arms with surprising force and marched straight up to Tamara.
The surrounding Slytherin students watched this seemingly thin, fragile little red-haired girl in absolute, stunned silence.
"Senior!"
Her voice was sickeningly sweet, dripping with a sugary affection, while her brown eyes sparkled with a deeply morbid fanaticism.
"I just knew you hadn't been eating well again."
Ginny completely ignored Tamara's instantly darkening expression. She slapped the heavy greaseproof paper package directly onto the polished wood of the table, right in front of the Dark Lord.
"I just got this fresh from the kitchen. It is a special roast beef sandwich from the house-elves, loaded with double cheese and extra black pepper!"
As Ginny spoke, her fingers roughly tore open the greaseproof paper, revealing a massive, steaming sandwich inside. It was literally as thick as a brick.
The rich, heavy aroma of roasted meat and melted cheese wafted through the air, hitting Tamara right in the face.
But in Tamara's eyes, this greasy monstrosity was practically a biochemical weapon radiating pure malice.
"I am not hungry."
Tamara refused coldly, her gaze cutting like a physical knife. "Take it away, Weasley. Do not force me to embarrass you in public."
"No can do."
Ginny did not buy the icy rejection for a single second.
She actually went a step further. Her hands reached out, picking up the massive sandwich and holding it right up to Tamara's pale lips. Her brown eyes stared intently at Tamara with a hair-raising, unblinking persistence.
"Senior, you are far too thin, and your face is so pale. You look like you would blow over in a stiff breeze."
"My mom always said you have to eat more and take proper care of your body... that way, you will have all the strength you need to do exactly what you want to do, right?"
Tamara felt a vein throbbing violently at her temple. The thin string of her remaining logic was on the absolute verge of snapping.
This damned Horcrux puppet actually dared to force the greatest Dark Lord in history to consume such greasy, peasant junk food in front of the entire school?!
"I said, get lost—"
Tamara's hand was already slipping into her robes, her fingers brushing the smooth wood of her wand.
She swore to Salazar Slytherin himself that even if she were to be given a month of detention, she would teach this reckless, insolent little girl a bloody lesson right here and now!
[Ding! System reminder!]
Just a single second before Tamara was about to draw her wand, that overly cheerful electronic voice that made her teeth itch rang out right on time inside her skull.
[Detected a 'Heartfelt Sandwich'gifted by'Best Friend' Ginny Weasley!]
[Item Analysis: A special beef sandwich, containing Miss Ginny's deep concern for the host's health and her sincere wish for the host to grow strong.]
[Behavioral Judgment: Refusing this heavy love will severely hurt a sensitive young girl's soul!]
[If the host insists on refusing this love, the system will automatically activate—True Emotion Expression Auxiliary Mode!]
[Punishment: Forced takeover of the host's vocal cords and tear glands for three minutes.]
[Specific Performance: The host will burst into tears in public, hug Miss Ginny Weasley tightly, and shout: 'Ginny! How lucky I am to have a friend like you!']
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